


Through Stained Glass

by TheMedJack



Series: Take Two AU [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anyone order some childhood nostalgia with a side of an overabundance of love, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Eddie's feelings are unknown, Fix-It, Internalized Homophobia, Leia Kaspbrak Tozier, Lightsabers are involved, M/M, POV Eddie Kaspbrak, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Rated teen for language, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie and Eddie are just huge dorks who love to make each other smile, Star Wars References, Take Two AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26425486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMedJack/pseuds/TheMedJack
Summary: “A close friend once told me it’s okay to be scared, sometimes,” He recites with a look more intense than Eddie has ever seen, “I trust him.”Eddie’s heart swells as he hears Richie repeat his own words back to him. He knows what Richie said is genuine, that the man truly believes in the words Eddie once sent him over text.“He trusts you, too,” Eddie replies softly, unmoving.[A scene from the Take Two SMAU on Twitter, taking place between updates 305 and 307.]
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Take Two AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920739
Comments: 25
Kudos: 146





	Through Stained Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, loves 🐶❤ I've been waiting to share this one for a WHILE now and I can't wait to see what you all think!! I'm sure this moment is what a majority of you have been waiting for since the start of this story, hopefully it'll be worth the wait!!! I also really enjoyed trying out writing in the present tense, so I decided to give it another shot 🥰
> 
> Just like the first, this piece is from the twitter smau Take Two (@beepbeepjess) but can also be read as a standalone. 
> 
> Happy reading 💕💛💕💛

****

**eds listen there's something i gotta tell you**

****

**im just psyching myself out trying to do it**

**I think I have something that might calm you down first.**

**yeah?**

**Get out here, you'll see. 🙂**

A faint thud echoes from the dimly-lit hall.

There's still time to hide it all away, if he wants. Eddie could have them packed away in seconds and Richie would never have to know. It’d stay a secret until next time. Because he knows there will always be a next time. 

But why wait? He already bought them. They’re here. Why deprive himself of the opportunity to make Richie happy, if he has the chance?

Eddie stands, then sits, only to stand again. Then, he runs a tense hand through his hair. Stutters out an anxious sigh. Sits back down again. Glances at the clock and wonders if it’d make him feel any better to punch a hole straight through the wall with his bare fist. Or maybe if he made some tea. Where the _fuck_ is Leia-

Lemons? 

He smells lemons. 

Eddie fights the urge to wipe hastily at his nose. He’s almost certain Richie can smell the heavy scent of an entire cans-worth of Pledge gradually engulfing the entire apartment. A particularly potent whiff reaches Eddie where he waits on the couch, eliciting a series of frantic sniffs. 

Okay! So maybe he overdid the cleaning just a bit! But _Richie_ was the one who started acting all sullen and jumpy while they finished wiping down the kitchen! It wasn’t Eddie’s fucking fault!

...Right? It wasn’t his fault?

Music from Eddie’s new playlist could be heard from the adjacent room when they first began, its sound a muffled static through the walls. _The Spaghetti Special with Extra Sauce_ had become his top listened-to playlist in just a few short days of Richie sending him the link. It’s collection of songs were much softer than the original bunch, packed with gentle, familiar melodies that Eddie enjoyed streaming as he settled into bed each night. 

He and Richie both swayed to the tunes as they swept. 

Gentle glides, subtle twists. 

Half-spins atop their heels as they swept past each other in unison, the maneuvers so effortless it was like they’d been making them forever.

The shift in Richie’s behavior did not go unnoticed by Eddie, who took careful note of how his friend suddenly cut himself off mid-sentence and slipped into a trance-like state. Or how his hips no longer moved with the slow music. Damp rag in hand, Richie wiped the counters in uncharacteristic silence, his movements overly-mechanical and lacking both strength and purpose. 

Eddie’s playlist droned on.

A once comforting ambience turned sour from the moment Richie tumbled into what Eddie could only assume was an intricate web of frantic thoughts. The notion only spurred his own mind to race and, before he knew it, Eddie found himself roughly scrubbing down every damn surface he could reach. 

It didn’t help, though. And now he’s fucking out of Lemon Pledge.

Neither Richie nor Eddie exchanged any words as they completed their tasks for the night, the former entirely unaware of the worried eyes digging straight into his back. It wasn’t until Richie solemnly retired to his room, his clothed feet lazily sliding against the spotless floor, did Eddie rush to place the cleaning supplies back into storage. He texted Richie minutes later, his leg nervously bouncing from where he sat perched on the edge of the couch. 

Synchronized ticks from the clock on the wall pound against Eddie’s ears, nearly drowning out the distant creaks of Richie’s bedroom door slowly swinging open. Eddie shivers in anticipation as the muffled echoes of footsteps become more distinct against the heavy quiet.

With a rigid exhale, Eddie locks his phone and shoves it in his back pocket. His gut twists with panic when he glances down towards the two items resting on the coffee table. 

Shit. 

...Maybe this is a stupid fucking idea. Maybe Richie will hate it, sulk back to his room, and leave Eddie alone and humiliated on the couch for his shitty attempt at cheering his friend up! 

Or maybe, Richie will like it. Maybe it'll make him smile.

Stomach sinking as he realizes there’s no time left to ponder the thought, Eddie reaches down and snatches both items up from the table. Richie peers around the corner seconds later, now donning grey zip-up hoodie with both hands fisted tightly into his front pockets. A tired but kind smile grows on his face, which helps Eddie to relax and remind himself who he’s talking to. 

This is Richie, of _course_ he’ll like whatever Eddie does for him.

“Lay it on me, Spagheds,” Richie says with a sigh and a subtle shrug of his shoulders, “What’s your grand master plan to calm m-“

Eddie quirks a hopeful smile as he lifts his arms a bit higher, heart jumping and breath catching at the disbelief plastered on Richie’s face. It’s almost like a game. A challenge Eddie can only win by catching Richie off-guard in such a way that it renders him speechless. It’s a rare sight, seeing Richie stand there unable to conjure the words, but Eddie drinks it up with great satisfaction. 

Not a single person has ever mastered the craft like Eddie has, and both of them know it.

“I think it’s only fair that we settle who’s on what side of the force the old-fashioned way,” Eddie declares, his tone threatening yet playful. He flicks both wrists outwards in a familiar gesture lost to time, one still buried somewhere deep within his memories. Colored, plastic blades extend fully from the toy lightsabers clutched in Eddie’s hands. He relishes in the delighted sound of Richie’s surprised laughter as he taps the red buttons down on each handle with his thumbs.

The sabers glow bright in Eddie’s grasp, and he can’t contain the giddy, mischievous giggle that falls from his lips at the sight of Richie beaming back at him in awe. To see such excitement in Richies awestruck gaze? That alone made Eddie’s secret trip to the store so fucking worth it.

“What’s the matter, Rich?” Eddie teases, his voice akin to the one he so often used as they biked along the Barrens’ edge as children. A firm, carefree call that cuts through summer winds with ease. “Afraid you’ll lose?”

Eddie longs for the feelings those days once brought him, a blurry nostalgia that he associates with all things _warm_. It bubbles in his chest and draws out another subtle shiver that somehow feels both heavy and light in his heart. 

But he can never go back to childhood. 

Eddie smirks, raising his eyebrows as if silently asking Richie whether he accepts the challenge. Richie jumps where he stands when Eddie tosses a lightsaber across the full length of the room, his hands shooting out of his pockets just in time to grasp it mid-air. He grips the handle tightly, a brilliant blue glow now cast across his face that cascades down onto the surrounding floor beneath him. Eddie stares on as Richie’s demeanor suddenly shifts completely, his sluggish stance morphing into one of eager theatrics. 

A swell of relief blooms in Eddie’s heart and he fucking _beams_. 

With a casual swing of his arm, Richie effortlessly twirls the saber and creates a trail of light that gleams blue against the dim shadow of the room. The sight is a short glimpse into the distant past where this was Richie’s signature move before battle. Something flutters in Eddie’s stomach at the realization, but he is quickly pulled back to the present when Richie extends his arm and directs the end of his weapon towards Eddie. 

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” Richie declares in a voice set to mimic Darth Vader, which draws a laugh from Eddie across the room. 

“You know what else is disturbing? Your ability to quote that entire fucking movie from memory,” Eddie retorts with a raised saber towards Richie. He shifts lightly on his feet, maneuvering himself farther behind the coffee table, which now sits directly between himself and Richie. 

“Jealous?” Richie probes with a wink.

“You wish. Now show me what you’ve got, old man,” Eddie adds with a daunting smirk as he stealthily bends his legs into a prone position. 

“Who the _fuck_ are you calling old?!” Richie shoots back, subconsciously mirroring Eddie’s movements.

A second passes, then another. 

Then, Eddie vaults over the coffee table with ease and locks himself into a lethal, striking dance with Richie. Their sabers collide with loud thuds and bangs as they excitedly slice the weapons through the air. Although Richie has size and height on his side, Eddie knows he has the advantage of agility. In one fluid motion, Eddie swiftly dodges Richie’s next attack and bounds across the room. 

Richie catches his friend’s mischievous eyes and shoots him a confused look, not spotting the man’s free hand reaching towards the wall until it’s too late. A muffled “Oh, fuck-“ barely escapes Richie’s lips before Eddie dons a devilish smirk and flicks off the overhead lights. 

Perhaps Eddie is enjoying this a bit too much. But who’s to stop him?

A deep crimson bleeds from Eddie’s saber, lighting his energized expression at a harsh angle. He smiles again when Richie grins in return, the colored beams from the two toy weapons dimly illuminating the room. The soft reds and blues clash at the center of the floor and create a small pool of purple between their feet. 

It’s difficult to see the details of Richie’s face beneath the royal blue light, the glow marring the physical signs of his age into a blur. A chuckle slips from Richie as he twirls his saber again and, for the briefest moment, Eddie sees a flash of the face of a boy he once knew. And as Richie stutters when Eddie mirrors the maneuver moments later, Eddie can’t help but wonder if Richie could see the same in him. If Richie feels that same instinctual tug in his heart that says, _I’ve always known you, even when I didn’t._

They take a breath, then another. 

Then, Richie sweeps Eddie back into the fray with an amateur voice that vaguely resembles that of Yoda’s. “Fight, you must!” He calls out, laughing in between, “Win, I will!”

“The fuck up, shut,” Eddie shoots back without missing a beat, knowing it will draw a loud laugh out of Richie. Once the man doubles over in a bout of loud cackles, Eddie spots his opening and dives forward. He swings his lightsaber full-force, his awareness of the furniture in the room fading away as he and Richie are swallowed by a comforting darkness. 

Together they stand, face-to-face, in an endless void of black that extends far beyond the walls of Richie’s apartment. 

Time stills and Richie catches Eddie’s eyes, the sly smile dropping from his face as he discovers his fate. With a quick spin on his heels and tight curse under his breath, Richie extends his own saber in a defensive maneuver, catching Eddie’s weapon just inches from his face. Richie straightens up until they’re both eye-level and meets Eddie’s stunned gaze in return. The pair’s sabers cross to make a bright X between them, their faces aglow and eyes gleaming.

Eddie has never felt so seen through the darkness than he does in this moment, and the notion thrills him. 

Richie beams, his teeth lighting up blue and his eyes shimmering a fierce red. His face is just inches away from Eddie’s as when utters, “You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that to bring me down, Kaspbrak.” 

A vengeful spark ignites in Eddie and he chuckles under his breath at the sensation. You’re going to regret saying that one, Tozier.

“We started already?” Eddie smirks, gently nudging his lightsaber forward against Richie’s, “I thought we were just warming up.” 

Eddie snickers again as he rears back, lining up for a new series of quick swipes and dodges. He twists, spinning on his toes, only to abruptly halt the maneuver when a sharp hiss cuts through the air behind him. “Rich?” Eddie calls out in a gasp, breathing heavily from the exertion of their extended match. His arm and saber sink low towards his sides when he spots Richie clutching his saber arm with his free hand. “Shit, did I hurt you-“

“No, no!” Richie laughs breathily with a squeeze of his arm, appearing just as worn out as Eddie is, “My bad arm’s just acting up a bit.”

“Fuck, let me see,” Eddie says as he lets his lightsaber haphazardly slide from his hand to the floor in a series of loud clacks. He strides over quickly, concern apparent on his face, before he catches glimpse of the sly upturn of the corners of Richie’s mouth. “Wh-“ 

“ _IT’S A TRAP!_ ” Richie shouts in the voice of a character Eddie can’t remember the name of, leaping forward and toppling over Eddie.

Motherfucker.

Eddie loses his footing in the chaos and stumbles back against the floor. But hey, at least it’s fucking clean! Not that Eddie genuinely cares that much. Not when Richie’s kneeling down above him, aiming his bright blue lightsaber directly towards Eddie’s chest. 

Richie extends the lightsaber even closer as a triumphant smile finally breaks through his facade. He’s gently poking Eddie’s shirt with the tip of the saber and slowly twisting his wrist as if the weapon is a real, sharpened blade. “Any last words, Darth Spaghetti?” 

“Yes,” Eddie replies instantly, “Tell Leia she was always my favorite.”

“Ouch,” Richie chuckles between breaths, shifting the lightsaber to Eddie’s side before pretending to spear it directly through the man’s chest. “But don’t worry Eds, I’ll take good care of her after you’re gone.” 

Eddie succumbs to his itch to pull out the theatrics, pretending to gasp in pain as Richie drives the saber home. He would’ve felt embarrassed doing this with anyone else, but Eddie knew Richie would adore it. That’s why they’re doing this whole thing, isn’t it? To make Richie feel better? If this is what it takes, Eddie would happily oblige. 

Dedicated to his attempt at easing Richie’s nerves, Eddie stays where he’s sprawled on the floor, dramatically clutching his chest as Richie cackles wildly from where he’s perched above his friend. 

A few seconds pass, and then some more, but Eddie isn’t sure how many. He’s too focused on the slight burn in his lungs and the dryness of his mouth, and the way tiny beads of sweat glisten purple and pool along Richie’s forehead. Stray grey hairs, creased skin, a dull ache in the back. All subtle, bittersweet traits that show how much they’ve aged since the year they first parted ways. 

They’re older now, bodies worn and broken down in ways the eye cannot detect. Fatigue lasts longer, wounds heal slower. Scars no longer fade and instead become sobering reminders of the simpler times before life got so _fucked_. They can never go back, what’s done is done, but perhaps…

...perhaps Eddie could find something close in those glistening blue eyes staring back at him. 

Maybe Richie could help Eddie learn to love the scars that won’t fade. 

“Hey, Rich,” Eddie breathes heavily, his heart jumping with relief at the chime of Richie’s tired but pleased laughter. This is the exact outcome Eddie hoped for when he started this. One that would ease Richie’s anxiety, even if just for a short few minutes. Clutching the spot where Richie’s saber met his chest, Eddie utters, “I gotta tell you something, man.” 

Richie quirks an eyebrow, enthusiastically playing along with Eddie’s overly drawn-out death. “What is it, buddy?” 

Eddie pauses, doing his best imitation of the sound of Darth Vader’s breaths through his helmet. “I am your father,” Eddie states with a shaky, pointed finger towards Richie, “You know what that means, Rich?” 

“No, what?” 

“ _It means I fucked your mom_ ,” Eddie retorts sharply, unable to maintain his morbid demeanor as he breaks into a fit of laughter with the last few words. Richie stares back at him, jaw dropped and wide-eyed with genuine shock, before bursting into a mix of amused sobs. He leans back, giving Eddie room to sit up, before toppling over onto the floor with another loud wheeze. 

Hm. Cute.

“I’m gonna fu-“ Richie starts before he laughs loudly again, clutching his stomach with both hands beside his abandoned lightsaber. “Eddie I’m gonna fucking piss myself... _please_ just take my fucking tour dates, you clearly deserve them more than I do…”

Dumbass.

“Don’t you fucking dare, asshole! We _just_ mopped the floors!” Eddie remarks, trying yet failing to sound angry. He can’t stop laughing, either. Not when Richie is beaming at him like this.

Gradually, like turning up the volume of a radio to ease out the gentle hum of static, the world around them closes in and they both remember where they are. 

The exuberant energy filling the room fades to a dull drone resembling that of faint traffic in the distance. Silence, but a comfortable one. Eddie watches Richie undergo the same dwindling rush as a new sense of fulfillment washes over him. Despite the duel and the exhaustion that followed, Eddie feels inexplicably calm. He and Richie exhale together, chuckling once more at how out-of-breath they both still are, guilty of falling too deep into their trance of a dream-like memory. 

“So how was _that_ for a distraction?” Eddie proudly inquires when Richie finally sits upright beside him. Neither of them move from the floor, preferring to dwell in the comfort of darkness, ensnared by the illusion of their timeless encounter. 

“Pretty damn good, Eds,” Richie chuckles, still trying to catch his breath from their fight, “I’d give you a solid five stars on Yelp.” 

“Did it help?” Eddie pushes as he makes no attempt to hide the flurry of concern as it flashes across his face. He pulls his knees in towards his chest and tightly wraps both arms around them. Safe and secure, like an anchor at sea.

“Yeah, actually,” Richie half-smiles from where he sits cross-legged beside Eddie, “It really did. Thanks for that, Eddie.” 

“You know I’ll always be here when you need me, Rich,” Eddie replies wholeheartedly. He reaches out to pat Richie’s shoulder and gives the man a gentle squeeze, trying to convey so many words that can’t truly be contained in such a simple gesture. _Let me help you. Let me be there for you. Let me care for you. Let me show you how much you mean to me..._

_...Let me give you the love you deserve._

Unsure of whether Richie picks up on the notion, Eddie quietly retracts his hand and patiently waits for Richie to speak. He didn’t forget the reason Richie felt so anxious earlier tonight. There is something he had to tell Eddie, something so difficult to say that it’d landed the poor man in therapy. Eddie recalls just how long it took for Richie to work himself up to this moment, fully aware of how little he truly knows of Richie’s personal struggles. 

Eddie shivers in anticipation, preparing himself to give Richie whatever he could possibly need in this moment. He knows he would do anything to help Richie past this crucial point, yet he also knows how terrified Richie must feel knowing that Eddie is waiting for him to speak. But Eddie says nothing, vowing to give Richie’s mind the time it needs to settle down.

Seconds pass, however, followed by minutes. Eddie can see that all-too-familiar gleam of anxiety pooling in Richie’s eyes once again. But this time, Eddie recognizes what he now understands to be Richie spiraling too deeply and too quickly.

_Counting,_ Eddie thinks to himself as he recalls a previous conversation they recently had. A short exchange about what Richie does when he feels himself start to spiral. _He's counting in his head._

Eddie decides to break the silence before it consumes them both.

“Are you alright, Rich?” Eddie questions under his breath, as if worried that speaking too loudly would disturb the calm ambience between them. 

“Not in the slightest,” Richie scoffs, shaking his head as he runs his hands over his cheeks and beneath his glasses. He hesitates, huffing a loud breath from behind his open palms. When Richie eventually glances back up, Eddie feels his stomach lurch at the hauntingly serious expression on his face. 

Is this how Richie feels when Eddie beeps him? Because it’s fucking dreadful. 

“I gotta tell you something, Eds,” Richie nearly pants, his breath picking up despite the time that passed since the end of their match. 

A single crack in Richie’s voice is heard at the sound of Eddie’s name, its heightened pitch and fearful tone like a lethal strike to Eddie’s heart. He desperately fights the urge to reach out and pull his friend into a tight, comforting embrace. One he could really use himself right about now. Eddie hasn’t seen Richie look this afraid since their second fight at Neibolt, and hasn’t heard him sound so vulnerable since the first. 

He shivers. 

“You don’t have to do this if you’re getting anxious again,” Eddie adds empathetically, his voice growing quiet. “I’m not gonna lie, Rich, but you look like you’re scared shitless right now…” 

Richie laughs weakly, his shoulders bouncing in time with the deep sounds of his voice. A telltale sign that he’s attempting to mask what he’s truly feeling, and a gesture Eddie knows all too well. Their eyes eventually meet and Eddie finds himself holding his breath. Richie holds his gaze and speaks again, a newfound strength in his voice. 

“A close friend once told me it’s okay to be scared, sometimes,” He recites with a look more intense than Eddie has ever seen, “I trust him.” 

Eddie’s heart swells as he hears Richie repeat his own words back to him. He knows what Richie said is genuine, that the man truly believes in the words Eddie once sent him over text. 

“He trusts you, too,” Eddie replies softly, unmoving.

_Let me help you._  
_Let me be there for you._

Richie slowly exhales once, then again.

_Let me care for you._  
_Let me show you how much you mean to me._

Then, he says the words he’s been trying to utter aloud from the start, the weight they carry unimaginable in the eyes on anyone but himself. Eddie can see the detrimental toll scrawled within Richie’s gaze as he opens his mouth to reply, the words yet to be spoken like an ever-growing pile of stones in his heart.

_Let me give you the lo-_

“I’m gay, Eddie.”

The phrase strikes more forcefully than anything Eddie has ever endured. A fall that shattered his arm as a child, a direct collision with his car and a taxi, a sharpened knife that pierced the flesh on his face like it was paper. Their impact can’t compare at all, not by any means. 

So this is it, then...

...What Richie held inside for so long. An unchangeable, defining part of himself that he never allowed to see the light of day until this moment. 

Fuck.

All of those nights…

...Richie trembling beneath his hands, hot tears streaming down his face...Richie lying still beside Eddie, unable to reply as he tried to reign his racing mind...Richie spiraling at the thought of how his audience would perceive the real him...Richie turning Eddie away under the assumption he couldn't possibly understand what he was going through...Richie constantly asking for reassurance that Eddie wouldn’t abandon him when he learned the truth...

...All of those texts, all of those nights. 

They suddenly connect like the pieces of a long lost puzzle in Eddie’s mind, weaved together by a single phrase. The sensation is a stinging clarity that ferociously tears Eddie’s beating heart from his chest and shatters it right in front of him. Only shards of stained glass remain, a broken barrier laying between them on the cold, unforgiving floor.

_Fuck._

Eddie bleeds for him. 

He feels the sudden outpour of all that’s left inside him once he recalls the fear in Richie’s eyes just moments ago, one he can still see now. A daunting realization that Richie is terrified of Eddie rejecting him now that he's learned the truth. 

Eddie _bleeds_. 

“-Ed-Eddie…” Richie chokes, the sound of his voice growing so strained he can barely force the name past his quivering lips. The man’s eyes are cast downwards, his gaze locked on the exact space where fluorescent reds and blues from the sabers blend into a warm purple. Where the broken glass shards of Eddie's heart lay strewn along the hardwood floor.

“...Please say something, Eddie,” Richie outright begs as his voice jumps three octaves, “...Anything, please...just don’t be quiet. You can yell or scream or break something or leave or whatever, I don’t care, but _please_ just do _something_ -“ 

Richie startles when Eddie first collides with him, sucking in a sharp gasp as Eddie reaches forward and pulls him in tight. Acting purely on habitual instinct, Richie fights against the gesture and makes to shove Eddie away. 

Richie...

Eddie’s chest tightens when he’s met with two balled fists pressing weakly against his shoulders, but the fight is over less than a minute after it starts. Holding his ground, Eddie wraps one arm protectively around Richie’s back. Tears sting at the corners of his eyes when Richie grows noticeably tense against him. 

It’s a pain that pummels Eddie’s entire fucking body into refined dust. 

Yet Eddie continues to pull Richie closer, sitting higher on his knees until Richie could comfortably rest the side of his head just beneath Eddie’s chin. And when Richie attempts to push himself away a second time, Eddie brings a hand to the back of Richie’s head and gently runs it through the curly patches of hair that are tickling his neck. He can feel the man’s warm, shaky breaths against his shirt.

Another blow strikes Eddie like a sharpened dagger as Richie forcefully fights against his hold once more. Richie shifts where he sits, quietly whimpering when his attempts remain futile. 

Fuck, Rich...

Stomach sinking and throat clenching, Eddie leans forward and carefully rests his cheek against the top of Richie’s head. He never stops the slow, circling motions he started with both hands through Richie’s hair and along the small of his back. 

The gesture seems to finally do the trick, for Richie gradually starts to settle his fits of anxious squirms until he stills completely. 

Silence has never felt so loud.

“Oh, Rich,” Eddie whispers, the sound of his voice against the daunting quiet like a cannon splitting the wind. The darkness around them suddenly lost some of its comfort, feeling more like a cave that’s slowly crumpling in around them. “Richie…” 

Richie tenses even more at the delicate sound of his name leaving Eddie’s lips. He remains still, eyes angled downwards and body locked in a cross-legged position with his arms bound tightly to his own chest. So tightly that, for a short moment, Eddie isn’t even sure if the man is breathing. 

“Richie, I’m going to ask you to tell me what you need right now,” Eddie admits shamefully, wanting nothing more than to shower Richie with compassion and affection. But Eddie isn’t quite sure that’s what Richie needs to hear right now. He’s never seen this side of Richie before, not even as children. 

Not ever.

“I promised I would be here for you in every way that I could,” Eddie adds with another tender whisper, his voice partially muffled by Richie’s hair near his mouth, “Please help me keep that promise.” 

A quiet moment slips by, then another. 

“Do you hate me, Eddie?” 

Richie’s question strikes with the force of a storm, drawing blood that Eddie didn’t even know he still had left to bleed. 

A lethal blow that surely would’ve knocked him to the ground if he hadn’t already been there to begin with. Eddie’s vision suddenly blurs the red and blue lights surrounding him, twisting and morphing them into distant pools of vibrant color. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he senses the hot, wet trails cascading down his cheeks. Any attempts to stifle the urge to sniff and gasp for air quickly fail, the pained sounds drawing Richie’s head back up in an instant. 

“Eddie…” Richie trails off, his own tears collecting into large splotches across the lenses of his glasses as he fearfully stares at the weeping man before him. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t hav-“

“Don’t you _dare_ finish that fucking sentence, Richie,” Eddie snaps, a bit harsher than he intends. 

A pang of guilt floods his heart when Richie winces and averts his gaze in shame. 

Shit.

“Rich…” Eddie starts again, much softer this time. When Richie slowly looks back up to meet his eyes, Eddie can see the fresh streams of tears running down his friend’s cheeks. They catch on his glasses and his nose and his lips, staining his face with glimmers of red and blue as he shifts anxiously on the floor. Reaching up, Eddie opens his hands to gingerly wipe them away, but stops abruptly when Richie flinches upon the slightest contact of their skin. 

To witness such raw fear is its own torment.

“Richie,” Eddie pleads as he makes another attempt. He audibly sighs with relief when Richie allows him forward this time. “I could _never_ hate you, Rich.”

Richie’s face contorts under Eddie’s gentle caress, more hot tears streaming down as a broken sob escapes his lips. Eddie wordlessly wipes them away, barely able to see through the dim, purple light and his own blurred vision. It’s like they were back in that void once again as the sounds of their cries echo on for an eternity. 

“Remember when I said you’d still be my best friend? No matter what happens between us?” Eddie asks between his soft cries, his eyes locked on Richie’s. He waits until he receives a quick and quiet series of nods from Richie. The movement smears his tears across his face and under Eddie’s hands, but Eddie pays no mind. Only Richie matters right now, here in this dark and dream-like place, and in any other they’d ever come across together. “I wasn’t lying then, and I’m not lying now. I meant every word of what I said. You’re my best fucking friend, Rich, and you always will be.” 

A frown emerges on Richie’s flushed, tear-stained face. The doubt in his expression is undeniably present, most certainly eating away at him from the inside. “You’re not angry that I waited so long to tell you?” Richie utters as if in disbelief, “You're okay with me being this way?”

The notion that Richie could ever believe otherwise makes Eddie want to hold onto him for the rest of time and never, ever let go…

...if only to show him how fucking _wrong_ he was.

“I watched you go through so much shit to get to this point, Richie,” Eddie explains as he blinks away his own tears. He pauses to raise one hand and run it through the front of Richie’s hair before guiding any stray strands away from his face. 

Eddie relaxes a bit when Richie leans into his touch by the slightest fraction.

“I’m not angry with you,” Eddie continues, slowly guiding his hands to either of Richie’s shoulders and squeezing them reassuringly, “I’m _proud_ of you, Richie. I know how hard this all was for you and I’m so fucking proud of you.” 

Richie’s mouth falls open a bit at Eddie’s words, yet he makes no move to close it. Instead, another set of harsh gasps make their way in and out of his lungs as he tries to control his breathing. And, for the first time since they first joined each other on the cold, wooden floor, Richie reaches up and grasps Eddie’s wrists in either hand. He lets his head fall forward until his forehead rests atop his right hand, a fit of sobs now effortlessly slipping past his parted lips. 

Eddie understands what Richie needs to hear, now. What he’s been waiting to hear ever since the moment he confessed his secret to Eddie. It’s clear even through the dimness of the room painted with faint, intermixing reds and blues. 

“This doesn’t change the way I think of you at all, Richie,” Eddie starts, his words gentle yet filled with a newfound sense of compassion. His grip on Richie’s shoulders remains firm and supportive as he speaks. “This is who you are and who you’ve been from the very start. Just because I didn’t always know you were gay doesn’t make it any less real yesterday than it is right now. We have a lot of yesterdays, Rich, and they matter to me just as much as they always have...if not more.” 

Eddie exhales once, then again. 

Then, the dam breaks and Richie lunges forward. He throws his arms over Eddie’s shoulders as he buries his face tightly into his neck, finally allowing himself to show that level of vulnerability he’d tried so desperately to conceal. Richie cries like he’s never cried before, and Eddie holds him tight as he does. A bittersweet rush of love pours out from Eddie’s heart as he senses Richie go completely lax against him, body shaking. 

And just like that, the invisible walls of stone recede back into the void, leaving the pair out in the open of night and ready to face whatever is waiting for them together.

“Eds…” Richie repeatedly starts but never finishes, too caught up in his sobs and gasps for air to string together a coherent sentence. 

“It’s okay,” Eddie whispers soothingly as Richie openly weeps against him, “I’ve got you, Rich. I’m right here.”

“Eddie, I-“ Richie chokes and pulls back, his expression crumbling once more at the sight of Eddie smiling fondly back at him through his tears. “Eds...I’m-“

_Let me help you._  
_Let me be there for you._

Eddie shushes Richie and pulls him back into another warm embrace. He doesn’t need to hear the words out loud when Eddie could see them so clearly in Richie’s swollen, bloodshot eyes. Even through the soft, blue glow of Richie’s forgotten lightsaber on the floor, Eddie could see everything he needed to, and he knew well enough what Richie was trying to say. “I know, it’s okay.”

_Let me care for you._  
_Let me show you how much you mean to me._

Richie squeezes Eddie even tighter, letting all of his weight completely fall over his friend’s shoulders.

_Let me give you the love you deserve._

“Thank you...thank you...fucking thank you...fuck...Eddie, thank you...” Richie utters weakly into Eddie’s neck with loud sniffs between each word. The pure and prominent relief laced in his voice alone would be enough to mend the broken and scattered shards of Eddie's heart. “Thank you…for waiting for me...for letting me choose when to do this on my own...for not pressuring me despite all of the bullshit I caused…fuck, I was suck a dick...and for still being here for me when I was finally fucking ready...”

“Richie-“ 

“Thank you...” Richie cries as he shifts against Eddie and starts to sob into his shoulder, “...Thank you for accepting me, Eddie...even after all those times I locked you out on the other side of my stupid fucking door…”

Eddie smiles sadly.

Richie’s words break off into another sob before he can finish. A single tear slides down Eddie’s cheek as he listens, a small display of the overwhelming rush of emotions within him that threaten to spill over any moment. “Thank you for trusting me enough to open it, Richie. Thank you so much for letting me in. I-“ 

The tiniest of squeaks suddenly cuts Eddie off, the sound causing both him and Richie to whip their heads towards the source of the noise. They laugh, softly and knowingly, as a silent figure lightly pads towards them across the hardwood floor. A blurred outline of Leia soon appears, tongue hanging and tail wagging, as the surrounding shadows swallow her dark coat of fur until she jumps up against Richie’s upper thigh. 

“Nooo, baby girl, did we wake you?” Richie asks with a sniff, his voice noticeably dry and cracking. He and Eddie both cried more tonight than they probably had the entire duration of Eddie’s stay combined. That part fucking sucked, yet Eddie can’t help but notice the cathartic rush that electrifies his body at the sight of Richie’s growing smile. One lacking both fear and trepidation. 

Unaware of Eddie’s holding stare, Richie pulls back to scoop the puppy up into a single hand. She squirms as Richie allows her time to adjust her stance for better balance, yipping with excitement when Richie brings her towards his face moments later.

Eddie’s never felt such a love as he watches the pair exchange a gentle kiss.

He welcomes it gladly.

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” Richie coos with the tone of a heartbroken parent, slowly rocking his hand back-and-forth. He plants a loving kiss on top of the puppy’s head, followed by more along the sides of her face. “One of your dads is kind of having an emotional breakdown right now.”

“Only one of them?” Eddie smirks as he gestures to his own splotchy and tear-stained face. 

“Okay,” Richie chuckles with a tired nod, blinking through the tears still streaming down his cheeks, “So maybe _both_ of your dads are out of commission right now. Looks like you’re gonna have to fend for yourself for a bit, lil’ Leia.” 

“She can take care of us, for a change. Come here, sweet pea,” Eddie adds, taking Leia into both of his hands and holding her a few inches above his face. He giggles at the sight of Leia squirming to get close enough to lick him, obliging for the shortest moment. Just enough time for her to land a single, excited kiss to Eddie’s nose. “You’re here for us, isn’t that right, angel?” 

Eddie already knows the answer.

They're a team, the three of them. They look out for each other.

Leia squirms again, letting out a series of short yips in response. The gesture elicits another laugh from Eddie who, upon noticing the silence from Richie’s direction, glances back up at the man across from him. Meeting Richie’s gaze, Eddie finds an expression of pure gratitude and admiration, and his heart leaps at the sight. Richie extends a hand to scratch Leia under the chin while his other hand stretches to catch Eddie on the shoulder. “I love you both,” Richie whispers brokenly with a gleaming grin, his eyes repeatedly jumping between Eddie’s and Leia’s. “I love you both so fucking much.” 

Eddie beams in return, the reds, blues, and purples between him and Richie seemingly growing ten times brighter. “We love you too, Richie.”


End file.
